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Canadian Odyssey By Lyle Underwood This is a story about two young bucks in their teens, living from paycheque to paycheque in Markham. We both had gone to Markham High , and John was a year ahead of me. We did not know each other then, because John had left school to join the merchant navy. He changed ships in South America, and ended up on the same ship as my older brother Gord. They came back after the war, and John came to live with my sister in Markham. We made friends there, and have been friends ever since. I call the story "Across Canada, 2000 miles, with only Fourteen Dollars" Through a car dealer friend, we met, Gus, who promised us a free trip out west to Calgary. We helped him round up and load used cars on railway flat cars. After two weeks, they were ready to go, and Gus said the Mixed Train (some freight and some passenger cars) would pick us up in West Toronto station on Friday eve. We were there, but only got to watch the train pass by. As the train originated at Union Station downtown, we knew we had been conned. We took our duffle bags to a new housing area in North Toronto, and stayed in a three quarter built house to keep warm. Saturday morning, we hitched north , and the first ride took us to North Bay. He heard our story, and when we were getting out of the car, he gave us two dollars each for cigarettes. We had something to eat, and watched for a train loaded with farm machinery going west. We both had our own seats on new Massey Harris combines, as the steam engine stopped for water in a small town the next day. I ran for a water pump in a park By the time I had it primed with water coming out, the train was moving. I had my drink, and caught on near the end of the train and worked my way forward to the combines. The next time we stopped, I ran across the tracks to a bakery , and bought pop and cookies. I was followed back by a railway policeman. After he heard our stories and saw our work permits had stamps full for the past year. Stamps were a wartime invention of some politician , to show the reason you were not in the military, and where you worked. He told us he had never seen us, and he hoped we would get our man. It started to rain heavy, and the combines were not enclosed like they are now, so for protection, we moved to a boxcar half full of hardwood. The rail car was being shifted around, so finally we heard a man slam the door when we stopped. We hollered and hit the sides of the car with hardwood until a railway worker opened the car and gave us a lecture about how the car could have been on a siding for a week. He invited us in the caboose, and shared tea and lunch from Strathcona to Winnipeg. They slowed the freight and told us where to get off downtown. We stayed in an all night coffee shop. The next morning, we made our way onto the Trans Canada Highway, going west. After several times, the driver and us helped drivers stuck in the mud. Our ride took us to Moosamin Saskatchewan.. The first contact we made was a Mountie. He told us to keep dry, we could stay in the cells with the doors open. WE agreed, and the next morning we hit the highway again. We ended up in Tilley Alberta that evening, and again asked the Mountie. He took us to a coffee shop and bought us a coffee. Someone in there bought us a big sandwich. The Mountie came back later on, and took us across the main drag to meet someone who put us up in his garage, which had bunks. He also gave us two dollars each , and we had breakfast early, in Brooks Alberta, in a Highway Café which was open 24 hours. That was the first time we saw a cowboy who was not in the movies. We had a lift heading for Calgary, but we got off at the highway nine intersection. We got the next ride all the way to downtown Drumheller. We asked the Mountie, and he said the Sarge would charge us as vagrants. We told him our story, and he informed us he was from Toronto. He also told us that we were dealing with the biggest crook in the valley. He took us to the bakery when the night shift came on. The fed us fresh buns, and butter and coffee. The Mountie told us how to get to west Drumheller, and called Newcastle , where Gus lived. He also warned us not to beat him up, because he could easily find us. Gus just about died when we came to his house on Sunday morning, after he dumped us just eight days earlier in Toronto. He told us we could not get any money, because everything was on car lots in Calgary. We stayed again at the bakery and Monday we went to look for a job anywhere. We met a man downtown, where he was paving some streets. We shared his lunch, and he gave a few tips on where to work, and also gave us two dollars each. We both went to different ranches to harvest. The man I worked for said his wife would not let me sleep in the house, because they had two teenage daughters. I go to eat with them, but slept in a trailer. His wife wanted to move to Calgary or Vancouver, but he was not interested She must have kept bugging him, because a month after harvest, he committed suicide in a boxcar. After harvest was done, we went north by train (paid tickets) to Edmonton. We could not find work, so we hitched to Athabasca. No work there either, so we tried to hitch north again. We couldn't get going, so on the edge of town we covered our bags with leaves, and walked back to town for lunch. When we returned, our duffle bags were gone. We asked the police there, and they told us that someone was probably watching us put them there, and picked them up. We still had some money from harvesting, so we bough new gear. We took a good look at a map, and headed south again to Edmonton. We went to a flop house in downtown, with bunks all in circles around a central urinal. The toilet was over in a caged area. The next day, we went to the employment office, and got a job in a BC lumber Company. That night, we went to a better class hotel. We both intentionally slept past the time we were to be over at the lumber company's office. After we got up, we hitched south to Calgary. One night, somewhere we slept in a farmers field with cardboard and hay bales. We went to a service station and washed and shaved, so that we could continue our journey into Calgary. We stayed at a cheap hotel, and the next day we panhandled down on eighth avenue, so that we could eat. I worked a second job in a meat market in Markham, learning meat cutting. I tried every meat business downtown, and was told there was a meat strike on so they couldn't get very much product. I finally got a job at Handy Meats, across from the Bay. The manager advanced me enough money to sleep every day at the Arlington Hotel on Second Street west. I worked making sausage and hamburger until I was hired to be an Apprentice Meat Cutter. There was also a produce store , run by Chinese Canadians. Handy Produce. They fed me lunch every day, and listened to my stories. In the meantime, John got a job at Shaws House Moving Company. He worked a lot of nights, so we didn't connect, except on weekends. I was lassoed by a Calgary gal, who was a customer every day! She bought meat for all her friends where she worked. We later married, and had five children - four sons and one daughter. John was Best Man at our wedding. He left to live in Edmonton when we were on our honeymoon, married an Edmonton gal, and had one daughter. I worked in retail meats until I retired at the age of Sixty Two, to help my wife who had Multiple Sclerosis. John worked for the CN rail for a couple of years, and later on made a career as a heavy duty mechanic. He was later promoted to, and retired as Chief of Services with the Edmonton Fire Department. John and I still talk weekly, and visit one another four times a year. We are still friends, after fifty seven years. |
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